


Ua hōʻeʻele

by Jenwryn



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, M/M, Weather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-21
Updated: 2011-09-21
Packaged: 2017-10-23 22:18:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/255649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenwryn/pseuds/Jenwryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something o'clock and the sky breaks open.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ua hōʻeʻele

**Author's Note:**

> This show is making me stupid-happy. Which is the only way to explain how I've managed to watch the first fifteen episodes in such a short stretch of time. You know.

Something o'clock and the sky breaks open, no, the sky melts away and leaves only liquid, because this isn't like water through a cracked ceiling but more like a ceiling evaporating at the edge of the sea. It probably isn't even raining a few streets over and that alone can still make him blink, can still make him wonder how it is that this, here, of all places, has become his home.

Home, is a word he doesn't even try to think, when he's less tired and when he isn't aching in places he'd forgotten belonged to him. But he is aching, and he is tired, and the radio by the stove is fuzzy with damp at the batteries, and Danny lets the sound of it – of the radio, of the word – drift easy in his mind. Danny lets it, and simply lets it be. The radio, and the word, and the soft sounds of Steve rattling around the place, probably with his Domestic Martyr face on and quite possibly gathering Danny's laundry into a pile.

It really should bother Danny more than it does, yeah, but it's been a long day, a long week, a long few months; more crammed into one breath than belongs in one hour. One hour that would have been, at least, back in whatever place his past has flown to.

Rainbows ricochetting off mountainsides, and Steven McGarrett muttering about the fundamentals of being a home-keeping adult.

It's been a long time, and Danny skips steps down the stairs, leaves the shelter of the house. He works his tie undone and lets it hang loose against his already sodden shirt. The rain is as heavy as it looks, and he rests into the weight of it, the pressure of it; looks upwards, and lets his eyes smart.

The door swings behind him, the radio burbles, and Steve is asking, “Seriously?”

Steve's hands find purchase at Danny's hips, and Steve's eyes are crinkled, delighted, predictably entertained as Danny turns within his arms. As Danny tugs his tie completely free from beneath his collar, and flips it across one of Steve's shoulders instead. As Danny says, “Don't get any ideas about this becoming a permanent thing, Princess.”

It is, though.

Not the tie. But this.

Danny lets the rain beat his words into what he really means. Danny lets Steve's hands settle tighter on Danny's hips, lets Steve's palms smooth Danny's shirt against his sides, around to the small of his back, urging rain through cotton and onto skin beneath.

“Whatever you say, Danno,” Steve drawls, his expression arch but his fingers sly.

Rain, the blind of swift-falling rain; drunk on it, and on this place. This place, this man, this everything that Danny never wanted, and Danny in the middle of it. Danny, blinking and being held. Danny, blinking and holding too, now, his thumbs at Steve's belt, his fingers crooking down against a hip.

Rain, on Steve's face, making Steve's lashes dark, Steve's hair dark, even the strands shot with silver, dark.

Rain, and Danny licks it from his lips, tastes the salt from a long day of work, and from the beach just down a ways. Presses closer, when Steve's pupils dilate.

“Aloha,” says Steve, voice slipping low, breath warming against Danny's temple.

“You — you did _not_ just say that,” Danny huffs, appalled and amused, but he leans up, in, anyway; meets Steve half way.


End file.
